If you fall then I will, too
by ncis-lady
Summary: "'Bilbo,' breathed Fíli, 'oh no, Bilbo...' Kíli turned his head, fear and fury being reflected from his dark eyes, and in a split second of mutual understanding the two brothers jumped off the tree." AU version of the ending scene of AUJ, Fíli's POV. Rated T for language and some violence. hurt!Kíli, protective!Fíli.
1. Defending

Hey everyone! This is just something that came to mind some day, and I finally had the time to write it down.

AU version of the "Thorin taking on Azog on his own" scene at the end of AUJ - what if the eagles had arrived later? How far would Fíli and Kíli have gone in order to save their uncle?

Three-shot, which is already finished, so the fic will be complete by the end of the week. (I know I could have made it a one-shot, but it just fit to divide it into three chapters. Feel free to put off reading until the last one is out. ;))

Rated T for language and some violence. Hurt!Kíli, protective!awesome!Fíli.

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**If you fall then I will, too**

**1: Defending**

"Thorin, no."

The words left Fíli's lips almost soundlessly as he watched his uncle running towards Azog. Everything seemed to slow down around him, the noises were drowned out, and all he could see was his uncle brandishing his sword as he approached the pale orc. He knew in that moment that Thorin didn't stand a chance, and still he was almost paralysed where he hung on to the branch above him with one hand, balancing on another branch when around him and his companions the trees were burning. His gaze was set on the dark-haired dwarf, and he heard someone scream when Azog threw Thorin to the ground. It was only seconds later that Fíli realised it had been himself.

"Kíli, we've got to –", he shouted, but when he looked at his brother he could see that the younger one was staring horror-struck at the scenery below, and his stomach clenched upon seeing his little brother so scared. He hadn't seen that expression in his eyes ever since their adventure with the stone giants, and he had then wished to never witness it again.

In that moment the warg buried its fangs into Thorin's limp body, and suddenly Fíli saw red. He could feel his blood boiling, his vision became blurry, all he could see was that his uncle was about to die before his very eyes.

"Thorin, noooo!"

It was a cry of so much anguish that it made Fíli's heart grow cold. He had never known that Dwalin could sound so terrified.

"Noooo!" someone cried out, and a small figure sprinted forward and crossed the distance between the trees and the fallen dwarf.

"Bilbo," breathed Fíli, "oh no, Bilbo..."

Kíli turned his head, fear and fury being reflected from his dark eyes, and in a split second of mutual understanding the two brothers jumped off the tree.

Somewhere beside him Fíli could see another dwarf rush by, he could barely make out who it was with everything being blurred around him, but he heard his battle cry echoing louder than the rustling of the flames and the cheers of the orcs and the growls of the wargs. The only thing he could really see, though, was the orc holding a blade at his uncle's throat, and his mind reeled.

_He cannot die. He cannot die._

Like a mantra he repeated the words in his head, while his legs moved on their own accord but refused to run faster.

"Dwalin!" yelled Fíli in despair when he saw Bilbo taking on the orc on his own. The bald warrior didn't reply, but ran towards the hobbit, axe raised above his head. Fíli watched horrified as Bilbo killed the orc and found himself facing Azog and his warg.

"Get away from him!" roared Dwalin just when the orc leader sent forth his inferiors to end Bilbo's life. The last thing Fíli saw of his friend was the dwarf burying his axe in the orc's head.

Fíli rushed on, finally getting to Thorin, and he felt an icy grip clenching his heart when his gaze fell onto the still form of his uncle. He wasn't moving, and blood was covering his face and staining his coat somewhere beneath his chest. The young dwarf fell to his knees at Thorin's side.

"Uncle?" he whispered, scared for a moment by his own, almost timid, voice. He reached out his hand to feel for a pulse, and his own breath left him when he could find none. His uncle's skin was deathly cold under his fingers as he pressed his index and middle finger against the side of his neck where he needed to find a sign of life.

"Come on, Thorin," he mumbled, feeling despair washing over him, "don't do this, don't –"

"Fíli!"

He flinched when he heard Kíli's voice from somewhere in the blur. He looked up, and not a moment too soon. He saw only a huge shadow above him, and he reacted instinctively, wielding his sword and stabbing the mighty warg with all force he could muster. The beast shrieked and retreated, giving Fíli the time to find his footing and to balance his twin swords in his hands.

The orc urged its mount to go on, and the warg bared its teeth as it approached Fíli.

Fíli was surprised about his own calmness. He didn't move, but waited for his opponent to strike first, knowing that in that split second of jumping forward, the warg would be defenceless.

"You want his head, you have to get past us first," he growled.

_Us. _

Oh no, Kíli. He had been right beside him.

"Kíli!" he yelled, for a moment taking his eyes off the orc, searching desperately for any sign of his brother. "Kíli!"

In that instant the orc seized its chance, and the warg leapt forward. Before Fíli's mind had time to fully process the assault, his body reacted, moving his right arm and burying the sword deep into the warg's neck. Red, hot blood poured out of the wound, and Fíli gasped involuntarily when he felt his hand getting covered in the animal's blood. He must have severed an artery, and the shrieks of the dying creature filled Fíli's ears, but he couldn't afford to pay any attention to it. The orc was still alive, and it didn't waste time. Sword clashed against sword, the impact of the orc's weapon on his own sword vibrating through Fíli's body as he parried the attack.

Fíli fought like he had never fought before, handling his swords with ease, but every now and then chancing a glance at his uncle or searching for his brother.

The orc raised its sword high above its ugly head, a malicious grin on its face, and Fíli realised that the creature had made a mistake. He rushed forwards, and a war cry escaped his lips as he plunged his sword into the orc's chest. It died with a look of surprise on its face, as if it couldn't quite believe that a dwarf had had the cheek to end it.

Desperately Fíli glanced at Thorin again, but found another orc coming nearer before he could even check on his uncle. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as he slayed the orc, and another one, all the time feeling the fear inside him grow the longer he couldn't find his brother.

Another orc fell by his sword, and finally he had time to catch his breath. The fire was burning around him, irradiating heat adding to the sweat running down his forehead. His arms were aching, shivering from exertion, but he ignored it. It didn't matter. All that mattered was his uncle lying at his feet.

Slowly Fíli kneeled down, afraid of what he might find.

_He cannot be dead. He cannot be dead._

He laid his hand onto Thorin's breast, and his fingers, which were still coated in the warg's blood, were almost invisible against his uncle's own blood-stained tunic.

It was then that he heard the scream, and his heart froze.

"Kíli!"

He scrambled to his feet, turning around, frantically searching for the source of that agonised cry, all the while refusing to step away from his uncle.

He found him, all of a sudden, the black hair and dark clothes like camouflage against the earthy ground. Kíli was lying in his back, and to Fíli's horror an orc was looming above him, one foot on his brother's forearm, another on his chest, pinning him in place. His sword was lying only inches away from his right hand, but out of reach for Kíli due to the heavy orc boot rendering his sword arm useless. The orc raised its weapon, the blade was glinting in the light of the flames, and Fíli cried out in fear. His gaze locked with his brother's, and he saw him moving his lips, trying to form words but finding none. He could see that his little brother was in pain, he could sense that he was scared, and he could see the sword threatening to kill him.

"Not my brother, you filth!" he yelled, making to sprit forward, swords ready in his clenched fists.

A quiet moan made him stop dead in his tracks.

Everything seemed to happen simultaneously. He froze on the spot, at the same time witnessing the orc bringing his blade down, he heard himself screaming and saw the blade sink into the earth a hair's breadth next to Kíli's neck.

Azog.

Azog was approaching his brother and the orc, having held up his hand just in time.

Fíli stared at the pale orc, and at his brother who was still lying on the ground, the tip of the orc's sword at his neck.

"Drop your weapons!" roared Azog, his voice drowning out all other battle noises as he dismounted his white warg and crossed the distance between himself and Kíli with two giant leaps. He pushed the nameless orc aside, and suddenly Fíli was met with the fiery eyes of the arch enemy of his kin. Azog didn't lower his gaze, but an evil, twisted smile turned his scarred face into a grimace of horror, making Fíli's stomach lurch before he knew what was happening.

The pale orc kicked Kíli in the ribs, and the sight of his brother curling in on himself to shield his body, along with the grunt of pain that accompanied Azog's action, was enough to make Fíli feel sick. Swiftly Azog grabbed Kíli by his injured arm, and Fíli could see that it took all of his brother's self-control to not make a sound. Azog pulled him up, holding Kíli in an iron grip that made it impossible to escape.

Not that Kíli didn't try. Suddenly he started kicking, lashing out with his free arm, and Azog's laughter sent shivers down Fíli's spine.

"Kíli, no..." he whispered almost tonelessly, and Azog's eyes flickered as he gazed at Fíli. He twisted Kíli's arm until the young dwarf couldn't suppress a cry, and the sound seemed to please the orc and made Fíli's vision go white.

"Let him go!" he shouted, but he knew that it was futile. Azog merely grinned sadistically, and placed the spike at the end of his left arm against Kíli's throat.

"Now isn't that cute?" he said mockingly. "Your brother? But I can smell the Durin blood in him," and he spit on the ground, "so that makes you... oh, that's good. That's really good."

It was everything but good.

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**A/N: The story title is a line from the song "Without you" by Breaking Benjamin.**

**Reviews, anyone? ;)**


	2. Losing

Thanks for reviewing and following!

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**2: Losing**

Fíli watched helplessly as Kíli tried to turn away from the pressure against his neck, and Azog narrowed his eyes.

"Surrender," he hissed, and it was only then that Fíli remembered Dwalin and Bilbo. For a short moment he wondered if the others were still on the tree, and if they were alright. Neither Dwalin nor Bilbo moved at Azog's command, though. Fíli knew that he would be a dead dwarf the second he dropped his swords, and deep down he knew that Azog wouldn't release Kíli just like that, either.

He tried to not think about what the pale orc would do to Thorin.

_But what if he's –_

He forbade himself to think further. Thorin would live, and he would defend him until the end. He couldn't give up on him.

His eyes fell upon Kíli, who was pressing his left hand against his rib cage, and he heard him groan quietly as Azog yanked at his arm once more.

"Drop your weapons," repeated the orc with his snarling voice, "or the _gazat_ dies."

A thin bead of blood appeared on Kíli's neck, barely visible against his dirty skin, but it was enough to shake Fíli from his paralysis. Almost soundlessly his twin swords fell to the ground, a soft thud the only noise audible over the hissing of the flames and the sneers of the orcs. A few feet away from him, Dwalin and Bilbo mimicked his actions.

Fíli could see his brother's eyes widening, and he winced inwardly when even from the distance he recognised the accusation in the dark eyes. Kíli thought he had given up on Thorin. But his little brother probably didn't understand that if Thorin was conscious he wouldn't have done anything else, or at least Fíli hoped that this was true. His uncle would rather face Azog unarmed than watch him kill one of his kin. And Fíli had every intention to follow his king's example.

Azog's followers were closing in on Fíli, Thorin, Dwalin and Bilbo, while Azog still maintained his grip on Kíli.

"Isn't that adorable?" sneered Azog, the sound of his voice making Fíli's stomach churn. "Dwarves... the way they sacrifice everything for their kin – so adorable. And so stupid."

Time. They needed time, Fíli thought desperately. The flames were getting higher, he could feel the heat on his skin, and far away he could hear the cries of his companions. Vaguely he remembered Ori and Dori clinging on to the large tree, and he tried to shut out the noises of the other dwarves.

_They cannot be dead._

"You're a bloody coward, Azog," growled Dwalin, a hint of frustration in his tone. "Too scared to take on a couple of dwarves by yourself, you filthy piece of –"

He was cut short when Azog roughly shoved Kíli to the ground, forcing him to his knees. The black-haired dwarf looked tiny against the pale white creature, but Fili couldn't help being proud of his little brother. His eyes were sparkling with fiery anger. But he couldn't quite hide the pained expression that flickered across his face from time to time.

"Coward?" hissed Azog. "Watch your tongue, scum, or someone's going to lose his."

With that he ran his spike down Kíli's cheek, leaving a trail of blood, the sight of which making Fíli feel bile rise in his stomach. This was Kíli's blood. His _brother's_ blood. He was shaking, his hands clenched to fists as he watched Kíli struggling against Azog's grip and listened to him cursing the orc in the most colourful ways the Khuzdul language had to offer, but only causing the pale enemy to relish his anger.

"So you're a fighter, now, aren't you?" he laughed sardonically. "Some courage still in the line of Durin after all, I see." His scarred face grimaced with glee. "Let's see then, how much you really mean to your kin."

Brutally he yanked Kíli back into a standing position, and the young dwarf yelled out in pain at the rough treatment of his injured arm. The orc pulled the dwarf tightly against his huge body, making it impossible for Kíli to move with both arms restrained by Azog.

"Step away from Oakenshield!" barked Azog, his eyes blazing at Fíli. The blonde dwarf remained still. He would not abandon his uncle.

Kíli moaned quietly, screwing his eyes shut for a second, then blinking rapidly a few times. He had never been good at hiding pain from his older brother, and Fíli knew in that moment that his little brother was hurt for real. He was probably just on the brink of consciousness for all he knew, and Fíli could feel desperation crawl up inside of him.

_Gandalf, do something. Thorin, wake up, please. Mahal, I need you._

But all his prayers seemed to be in vain. He glanced at Dwalin, but the seasoned warrior merely looked at him helplessly. Bilbo was pale, the first rush of adrenaline obviously having passed long ago.

"Do you think I'm not serious, _gazat_?" spat Azog. "Gorbog!"

An orc stepped forward, with extremely small, black eyes placed in a too large skull covered in scars and warts. He held an axe in his hand, and the sight of the weapon sent shivers down Fíli's spine. The orc approached Azog and Kíli, and the pale orc grinned sadistically.

"I think you have a saying, _gazat_, haven't you? Something along the lines of, a beard for a beard?" He nodded at Gorbog, and with a malicious smile the orc suddenly grabbed Kíli's injured hand and pulled it forward. The young dwarf cried out, and Fíli's mind was blank as he stared at what was happening before his eyes. His brother struggled with all strength he could muster against the iron grip of the orc, eyes wide with pain and sudden fear as his gaze flickered from his hand to the sharp blade of the axe.

"No!" he screamed, panic clearly audible in his unusually high-pitched voice, "no, leave me, let go!"

"Leave him!" yelled Dwalin, or was it Bilbo? Fíli couldn't tell, all he could see and hear being his little brother, and he desperately looked down at where Thorin was lying at his feet. He was dead, he had to be, otherwise he wouldn't let this happening. Not to his little Kíli.

_Please, Thorin, help me._

Fíli felt his eyes starting to burn as he willed his uncle to show a sign of life, but got none.

"No, please, no, I'm begging you!" Kíli half cried, half sobbed, suddenly sounding frighteningly like the child he was. The light of the flames was reflected from the blade of the axe that Gorbog raised above Kíli's outstretched arm, and in the tears that the young dwarf wasn't able to hold back any longer, and in the hilt of the small hunting knife stuck in Fíli's belt.

One chance.

Gorbog raised his axe a little higher, and Azog's cold eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Fíli stepped forward, silently apologising to Thorin when he could already see the other orcs drawing closer.

"Let him go," he said, trying to sound as calm and confident as he possibly could with his little brother being hurt before his very eyes. "Let him go, Azog."

He took another step, and Azog grinned, deeming victory on his side. Seconds seemed to pass like multiple lifetimes, and the brother's gazes locked once more.

It'll be okay, Fíli tried to tell his brother, I have a plan.

A foolish plan, admittedly, that would most likely fail. But there was no alternate way.

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**A/N: _gazat_ = dwarf**


	3. Saving

Hey everyone, thank you so much for your reviews!

Seems like it's going to be another chapter or two after this one after all - blame jaymzNshed :D

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**3: Saving**

One more step, and Azog pushed Kíli to the ground, kicking him in the back with a victorious howl. Kíli rolled a few feet, then laid motionlessly on the ground, holding his right hand with his left. Azog watched, apparently enjoying the moment.

His arrogance was his weakness.

Swiftly Fíli produced the small knife from his belt and, being still too far away from the orc, threw it with all his might at Azog. It stuck in his thick neck, like a needle on a pin cushion. It wasn't enough to kill him, Fíli had known that before. But he needed to save Kíli and buy them all some time, and the dwarven prince was willing to go for desperate measures.

Slowly Azog turned around, and when he faced Fíli there was no smile, no mockery in his face. It was pure hatred, and bloodlust sparkled in his cold eyes.

"For that I'll draw and quarter you, and make your precious brother watch, _gazat_," he hissed, approaching Fíli after quickly pulling a short sword from his sword-belt.

Fíli didn't budge. Slowly he produced a dagger from the inside of his coat, and he focused solely on the pale orc in front of him. His weapon looked tiny compared to Azog's blade, and he could feel the fury of the arch enemy with every fibre of his body. Faintly he could hear shouts and cries somewhere behind him, and for a short moment he sent a prayer of gratitude towards Dwalin and Bilbo, but then turned his focus back on Azog. He tried to not look at Kíli, but he could hear him groaning, the noise of his brother's pain being enough to make the beast inside of him stir and come to life. Jaw clenched and fingers grabbing the hilt of the dagger he waited for Azog to strike first.

With a mighty roar the Defiler attacked, his raised sword glinting in the light of the flames, and only at the last second Fíli jumped out of the way. Azog turned on the spot, and immediately approached his opponent again, and this time Fíli raised his own dagger in defence. Orc and dwarf circled around each other, and the blonde youth knew that Azog would wait longer this time. He was not stupid, but in fact calculating and cunning, probably waiting for his orcs to finish Dwalin and Bilbo before he took on Fíli.

He wouldn't let it come to this.

Fíli launched himself at Azog, his own battle cry echoing in his ears, and the orc was taken by surprise, giving Fíli the chance to stick his dagger into Azog's chest. Furiously Azog pushed Fíli away, causing the dwarf to land painfully on his back.

Time. He was running out of it.

Gnarling Azog stepped forwards, his sword in one hand, Fíli's dagger in the other. Blood was running down his chest and the side of his neck, but the pale orc didn't seem to notice. Fíli could feel rocks beneath him, and a stabbing pain in his back made him wince as he tried to push himself to his feet. His head was spinning, but his gaze was set on Azog as the orc approached. Quickly he glanced at where Kíli was slowly getting up from where he'd been lying, and he wanted to call out to him but couldn't raise his voice.

_I'm so sorry, Kíli._

Azog was looming above him, and Fíli forced himself to look him in the eye. If he was to die like that, he'd at least have the dignity to face his doom like a dwarf of the line of Durin.

Doom didn't come for him that day.

Suddenly he heard shrieks and loud fluttering noises, and he watched as Azog's eyes widened as dark shadows fell onto them. He held his breath when winged creatures came from everywhere, sharp claws and beaks digging into the orcs, drawing Azog's attention away from Fíli. Despite the battle around him, Fíli couldn't help but gape in awe at the enormous eagles, before a cry made him push himself off the ground and turn around.

"Kíli!"

He ran towards his brother, everything else momentarily forgotten as he pulled him into a tight embrace.

"You're alright," he mumbled, hugging the younger one as he felt relief for just a small moment. "You're alright, oh Kee..."

But his brother didn't respond, and instead stared at something behind Fíli. The blonde turned around and gasped when he saw a mighty eagle picking up Thorin with its huge claws. Another eagle took Dwalin and Bilbo, took of swiftly and flew away, only to drop both dwarf and hobbit onto the feathered backs of two other eagles.

"Thorin," whispered Kíli tonelessly, fear written all over his pale face.

"Come on!" yelled Fíli, interpreting the situation within seconds. He rushed towards where he'd dropped his swords earlier, picking them up and quickly stashing them into his double scabbard. He could make out Kíli not far away, probably retaking his sword, before he was suddenly lifted off the ground. He heard Kíli cry out, whether in surprise or from pain Fíli couldn't say, and then felt himself tumbling through the air and landing softly on a bed of feathers. A quiet groan told him that Kíli was close, and immediately he moved over to his brother and put his hand onto his shoulder, ignoring the cold wind and the shrieks of the animals.

"How do you feel, Kee?" he asked worriedly, unable to hide his concern when he saw his brother supporting his right arm with his left hand. "Your arm –"

"- is fine," interrupted Kíli rather harshly.

"You don't look fine, brother," replied Fíli, "and don't you try to hide it. He kicked you hard." The images of Kíli lying on the ground filled his mind, and he blinked rapidly to make them disappear. "I'm so sorry, Kíli."

"Sorry?" echoed the black-haired dwarf, and, taken aback by the angry tone, Fíli took his hand off his shoulder. "You apologise to _me_, when it's Thorin whom you abandoned?"

"Abandoned? By Mahal, Kee, what was I supposed to do?"

"Get you priorities right!"

The words hurt Fíli more than he'd liked to admit.

"Priorities?" he repeated flatly. "_Priorities_? Don't you dare, Kíli. Don't you dare questioning my priorities."

Kíli moved as if he wanted to back away from Fíli, but winced at the sudden movement and stayed where he was. There was something about the way he spoke that made Fíli's eyes burn. This wasn't his brother talking. This was a different dwarf.

He looked closely at the one whom he had known all his life. His dark eyes were defiant, angry, but there was also something else. A shadow of fear there was, that Kíli almost perfectly hid behind his anger.

Faintly, just faintly he could still make out the fading traces of tears on his stony face. And he wanted to hug his brother and tell him that he needn't be ashamed of being scared, and that he had been braver than most, and that soon Azog would get what he deserved. But after everything that had happened in the last minutes, Fíli found it impossible to say any of this.

_Someday I'll tell you how proud I am of you._

"I thought Thorin was dead," he said, trying to speak as calmly as possible. "And you were about to die. The priorities were clear, and Thorin wouldn't have done it any other way."

Something changed in Kíli's look at the mentioning of his uncle, and Fíli could literally see his mask crumble. But he didn't say anything, and instead both brothers simultaneously stared at their uncle, hanging limply in the claws of the largest eagle. Even from the distance the blood on his tunic stood out against the fur, and his face was deathly pale.

"Thorin!" Fíli cried out in despair, but his uncle didn't respond. He turned his head and found Kíli watching him, his brown eyes glistening with fear and sadness.

_He is not dead. He cannot die. He will not die._

Kíli murmured something that Fíli didn't understand at first. He looked at his brother questioningly, almost expecting him to say something offensive again.

"Thank you, Fee."

The three words were barely audible through the wind. But in that moment they were all that mattered to Fíli. His brother had forgiven him.

_Someday I'll tell you that you will always come before everything else. Even Thorin._

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**Reviews, anyone?_  
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	4. Hoping

You are awesowe! Thanks a lot everyone my dear reviewers! Time for some Durin feels ;)

Oh and I guess there'll be at least 6 chapters after all... oops. So much for the three-shot.

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**4: Hoping**

The flight seemed endless to Fíli. On any other day he would have enjoyed the amazing scenery laid out before him, the clear blue sky, the rays of sunlight, the vast landscape deep down below the mighty wings of the eagles. But now all he could see was his uncle hanging limply in the claws of the largest eagle, and his fear grew with every passing second.

Kíli was silent, and from time to time Fíli turned around to check whether his little brother was still holding on to the feathers. His eyes were closed, and Fíli felt worry gnawing at him whenever he looked at his pale face. They had been through too much lately, and he feared that the past events were finally taking their toll on the younger one. Fíli sighed quietly. More than once during their journey he'd been faced with the prospect of losing his brother, and they were still many miles away from Erebor. By the rate they were going, worry would have driven him mad by the time they'd finally reclaim their home.

He shook his head stubbornly. No, he wouldn't let fear get the best of him. He was strong, he was an heir of Durin, and he would not be weak.

The eagle shrieked, and Fíli realised then that he had clenched his fists.

"I'm sorry," he said, not knowing if the animal could even understand him. The huge bird didn't react, but in that moment began descending. Far below Fíli could make out a stony eyot, and it was that place that the eagles were obviously aiming for.

"Hey Kee," he called out softly, turning around to put a hand onto his brother's knee, "we're almost there."

_Whatever "there" is._

Kíli opened his eyes, and he looked at Fíli in confusion.

"Already? I must have fallen asleep."

He grinned lopsidedly, but Fíli felt a pit in his stomach as he took in the thin sheen of sweat on Kíli's forehead. No matter how much he tried to play it down, his brother was most definitely not alright. But before he could comment on it, the eagle reached its destination and landed gracefully on the rocky surface. Fíli had expected a rather bumpy landing and was positively surprised, but Kíli's face twisted in pain nonetheless.

The second the eagle was standing on solid ground, Fíli climbed off his feathery mount. Kíli made to follow him, and Fíli reached out his hand to support him. Kíli shot him a glaring look.

"I'll manage."

"Don't be ridiculous," answered Fíli gruffly and took hold of Kíli's left arm, steadying him as he, too, dismounted the eagle. A quiet groan escaped his brother's lips as he landed on his feet, and Fíli eyed him worriedly.

"We should have Óin have a look at you."

Kíli nodded courtly, lips pressed to a thin line, and as Fíli followed his gaze his breath caught in his throat.

_Thorin._

Gandalf was leaning over the dwarven leader, and when Fíli slowly approached them he could see the wizard covering his uncle's eyes with his hand. He was murmuring something under his breath, and Fíli didn't dare to breathe. Kíli was standing rigidly right next to him, his dark eyes never leaving their uncle.

Suddenly Thorin's eyelids fluttered open, and Fíli felt relief wash over him more intensely than ever before. He heard Kíli laugh shakily beside him, and he didn't hold him back when he rushed forwards to help Thorin get to his feet.

_He's alive. We've made it._

His heart seemed many stones lighter, now that he saw his uncle walking slowly towards Bilbo and pulling him into a hug. Only now the realisation of what Thorin's death would have meant for him hit him with full force. It would have been up to him to lead the group to Erebor, he realised with a shock, the success of the quest would have depended on him.

And it would have all meant nothing compared to the loss of the one who had been like a father to him for so many years.

He took a shuddering breath.

"Are you alright, Fee?" he heard someone ask, and he flinched as he saw the concern on Kíli's face.

"Wha – yeah, I'm alright. And it should be me asking that question." He laid a hand onto Kíli's right arm, and inhaled sharply when he saw the fading print of a boot on the leather vembrace. Dark thoughts filled his mind at the memory of the nameless orc that had hurt his brother. The orc had acted on Azog's command, and by Mahal, the pale orc would pay for that. "Does it hurt much? You really ought to have Óin –"

"It's not broken, if that's what you mean," replied Kíli. "Stop fussing, brother." He said it with a smile, and Fíli chuckled.

"That's my job, _nadadith_."

Kíli opened his mouth as if to say something, but in that moment gasps and shouts erupted around them, and the brothers, having been oblivious to anything around them, turned around. Their view was blocked by the heads of the other dwarves, but when they stepped forwards the group parted. Thorin was standing on the edge of the rock, his silhouette tall and strong against the clear, blue sky, and Fíli thought his heart might burst with pride as he saw his uncle.

_The true king of Erebor._

The black-haired dwarf faced them, and a smile was on his face that Fíli hadn't seen in a long time. In the distance he could make out the shape of a mountain, and although he had never seen it before, his heart filled with a kind of longing and happiness that brought tears to his eyes.

"Fee..."

"I know, Kee. I know."

They stood next to Thorin, and he put a hand onto each of their shoulder.

"Gandalf told me what you did, and I'm so proud of you," he said, and if Fíli hadn't known better he would have thought that Thorin's voice was quivering slightly. "And it won't be long until we're home."

His voice was confident, a promise that Fíli would hold on to. They would get to Erebor, they would fight the dragon and reclaim their lost homestead, and they would find peace.

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**A/N: This is slightly shorter than the previous chapters, but I promise the next one will be longer. ;)**

**_nadadith_ = little brother (but I guess you knew that one already)**


	5. Caring

Wow, thank you all so much for your reviews! I'm glad you all liked the previous one, so here we go again - please let me know what you think!

I'm afraid the next chapter won't be up before Sunday, though, because I have a birthday and a wedding to attend, so please be patient ;)

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**5: Caring**

The descent from the Carrock proved difficult, and they moved slowly. Fíli didn't mind, because it gave him the opportunity to watch over Kíli. The young dwarf had ignored all of his insisting to let Óin check on him, and followed the downward path with a stony expression on his face. He was apparently determined to not let anyone see the pain he was in, but Fíli noticed how sometimes the younger one pressed his good hand against his ribs, and inwardly the blonde cursed the stubbornness of his race.

Finally they came to the bottom of the rock, and Fíli wasn't the only one who was glad to walk on horizontal ground again.

"Durin's beard, I'll need to eat an olifant to make up for this!" panted Bombur, and the dwarves burst into laughter. Even Dwalin grinned broadly. The grim warrior had walked right behind Thorin all the time, and now his smile faltered as he looked at his friend.

"Maybe we should rest here for a while," suggested Balin, as if he could read his brother's mind. He exchanged a glance with Gandalf, and the wizard nodded approvingly.

"I agree, Balin. It would do us all some good."

"We don't have time!" rejected Thorin, but the look on Gandalf's face told Fíli that for once his majestic uncle wouldn't get a say in this matter. He stifled a chuckle as Thorin pouted like a reprimanded child, but accepted the wizard's order.

Fíli and Kíli sat down in the shadow of a tree, and Fíli glanced at his uncle who was talking quietly to Balin and Gandalf. Bilbo and Bofur were deep in conversation, probably exchanging stories of the Shire and Ered Luin. The blonde smiled as he watched the hobbit and the dwarf, who had developed an unlikely friendship during their journey.

Óin passed by, and Fíli decided he'd rather live with his little brother's anger for a while than be left with insecurity.

"Óin!" he called out, ignoring Kíli's furious glare. "Óin, could you spare a minute?"

Immediately the old healer turned on the spot and approached the two young dwarves.

"What is it, my lad?"

"It's Kíli, he's –"

"It's nothing!"

"- injured, could you please have a look at him?"

If looks could kill, Fíli was sure he'd drop dead from Kíli's glare right there and then.

"Of course, of course," said Óin, kneeling down before the black-haired youth. "I've heard what you did, laddie! Reckless fool of a dwarfling, you..." He hesitated for a moment, then the stern expression on his old face changed into a smile as he patted Kíli's shoulder. "Your father would be proud of you. Both of you," he added, looking at Fíli.

The blonde prince was suddenly overly interested in a loose thread on his tunic, unable to look at Óin as he felt his eyes starting to burn. Kíli didn't say anything, either, and Fíli knew that his little brother was probably feeling the same way as he. It wasn't often that the older dwarves spoke of their father, and if they did it was usually an anecdote from a time long past. His name would be dropped when Balin told of the old days in Erebor, or of a spectacular battle with the orcs, and at the mentioning of his name Thorin's face would cloud and Dwalin would grumpily announce he'd get more firewood, and Balin would quickly talk of something else.

Óin didn't seem to notice, though, but simply gave Kíli a scrutinising look.

"Now, my lad, what's wrong?"

"My right arm hurts, but it's nothing, really," said Kíli defiantly, but the healer wouldn't have any of that. He took Kíli's hand in his own and carefully removed the leather vembrace before rolling up the sleeve.

Fíli hissed sharply when he saw the bruising on his brother's arm. He knew he ought to be glad that it wasn't broken, but the mere fact that his baby brother had been hurt was enough to make his blood boil again.

"What do you think, Óin?" he asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"No serious damage, just a lot of bruises. It'll probably hurt for a couple of days, so that bow of yours will get a few days rest," said Óin with a wink, which Kíli acknowledged with a grimace. "I'll get you some arnica paste to speed up the healing process."

Fíli exhaled the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He knew he was overly protective sometimes, and that he would have known if Kíli was seriously injured anyway, but there was something about growing up with Kíli that made you fear the worst every time the younger one got himself into yet another accident.

"Anything else?"

"That's it, Óin, thank – ow!" Kíli winced when Fíli not too gently poked his ribs. The healer narrowed his eyes and gave Kíli his most reproachful look.

"I will not ask again: anything else?"

"Might have cracked a rib or two," grumbled Kíli, throwing Fíli a dark look. The elder brother rolled his eyes.

"Don't be daft, Kee, just get it over with."

Reluctantly Kíli allowed Óin to examine his ribcage. The skin on his left side was already developing a nice pattern of pink and blue, and the young archer couldn't suppress a moan when Óin pressed his fingers against his ribs.

"Aye, these are certainly cracked," said Óin, "but nothing life-threatening," he added with a wink. Kíli gave Fíli a look that clearly said, I told you so.

The healer fetched a bandage from his supply and wrapped Kíli's ribcage tightly.

"Don't strain yourself for the next days!" he warned the young dwarf. "You're one lucky lad, but don't tempt fate, so keep it slow for a while."

"Sure," replied Kíli nonchalantly, and Fíli narrowed his eyes. There was something utterly unnerving about his brother's attitude, like he couldn't care less about what had happened.

"I'll make sure you listen to Óin," he said determinedly.

Óin suddenly took Kíli's chin and forced him to look at him.

"Now, these cuts ought to be cleaned," he stated, looking pointedly at Fíli.

"Oh, right..." stammered the blonde, taking a small flask from Óin which he knew contained pure alcohol. "I'll do it."

"Good lad," mumbled Óin, patted both brothers on the back and, after putting a clean cloth into Fíli's hand, got to his feet. "I'll check on your uncle now, if you don't mind."

"Of course not. Thank you, Óin."

The healer left, and Fíli faced his brother who eyed the tiny flask suspiciously. Fíli couldn't blame him. He'd lost count on how often he'd had a wound cleaned with alcohol, and he couldn't remember a single time when it hadn't been unpleasant, to say the least. But it was necessary, especially for wounds inflicted by orcish weapons. Mahal alone knew on what poor creature Azog had used his spike before meeting Kíli.

"I can do that on my own," said Kíli firmly, looking at his brother defiantly. Fíli sighed quietly.

"Don't be a fool, Kee, we don't even have a mirror."

"Fíli –"

"No. I'll do it, or I'll get Dwalin. What do you prefer?"

Kíli muttered something under his breath, and Fíli chuckled.

"Don't let Thorin hear that, or your ribs will be nothing compared to your buttock."

The moment he saw Kíli's grin fade, though, he realised that his nephew swearing was probably the least of his uncle's problems right now, and inwardly he cursed himself for speaking without thinking.

That was usually Kíli's job, after all.

He poured some alcohol onto the piece of cloth and shot Kíli a warning look.

"Keep still!"

Gently he touched the cut on his brother's cheek with the tissue, biting his lip when Kíli hissed sharply. The blood was already clotted and mixed with dirt in some places, and it took Fíli longer than expected to clean the wound. He moved on to the cut on his neck, all the while imagining ways to pay Azog back in kind for his actions. Silently he apologised to Kíli, who didn't utter a word throughout the whole procedure, and exhaled audibly when he was finally done.

"That's it, Kee, as good as new."

Kíli brought his finger up to his cheek and traced the line that Azog's spike had left on his skin.

"Guess I'll keep a scar from that," he mumbled, and Fíli's heart dropped.

"Kíli –"

"The girls will love it," he added with a cheeky grin, and his eyes sparkled so mischievously that Fíli snorted loudly.

"You still don't have a proper beard, little brother," he smirked.

"Tiny, insignificant detail," retorted the raven-haired youth, grinning broadly at his brother. "The only thing girls love more than an impressive beard are battle scars. You'll soon be on your knees, begging me to introduce you to all the lasses that adore me."

Fíli roared with laughter, and for a moment he believed that everything was alright after all.

A howling in the distance destroyed the moment, though. Fíli could feel the hairs on his arms stand up, and as the noise erupted again he could see Kíli's eyes widening.

"Get up!" yelled Thorin, who was already on his feet. "Get up, everyone! The pack is following our trail, we have to move now!"

"Isn't it great to be so popular?" asked Bofur jokingly as he hurried by, but Fíli didn't smile at his words. Instead he shouldered his belongings, making sure that his scabbard was strapped tightly to his back, and reached for another bag.

"What are you doing?"

Kíli was looking at him intently, and Fíli knew that his little brother was angry. But he wouldn't discuss it, not now.

"You're under the strict order to not strain yourself, so I'll carry some of your stuff."

"But –"

"But me no buts. Feel free to return the favour once you're in good shape again."

He didn't wait for Kíli to answer that. He followed his uncle as he quickly led his company away from the foot of the Carrock, and wondered if he would ever get a good night's sleep again.


	6. Escaping

Haha, that was meant to be a filler chapter :D

Anyways, thanks to all who reviewed, can't say how much it means to me! I won't have time for writing until Tuesday, blame the World Cup! It's Germany vs. Algeria tomorrow, and after the rather boring match against the USA I'm expecting an emotional rollercoaster tomorrow (hopefully with Germany winning within 90 minutes, I'm too old for the excitement that comes with extra time and penalty shoot-out LOL).

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**6: Escaping**

They walked until nightfall, and even then they didn't stop. Sometimes they didn't hear anything for a longer period of time, and some of the dwarves complained that they might as well set camp for the night, but Fíli was grateful for Gandalf's insisting to go on. He didn't like the idea of Azog's company following them, and the greater the distance between the dwarves and the orcs was, the better.

_And Mahal forbid Azog will get anywhere near Kíli again._

Gandalf led the group, stating he knew of a house where they would find refuge. Fíli could only hope that it wasn't too far. He kept careful watch over Kíli, ready to intervene should the younger one show any sign of exhaustion. Kíli had adamantly repeated that he was alright, but the fact that he hadn't protested for long after Fíli had taken his bag told the older one everything he needed to know about Kíli's condition.

Sometime in the night Bilbo was sent scouting, and his report made the pit on Fíli's stomach grow larger.

"There's something else out there," said Bilbo, his kind eyes wide and clearly terrified.

A loud growl pierced the silence of the night, and Fíli had shivers down his spine. He looked at Kíli, and he could see his own worries reflected in his brother's brown eyes.

"What was that?" asked Ori with a high-pitched voice.

But nobody answered, and after a moment of stunned silence the dwarves rushed on.

Fíli lost count on how long they ran, all he knew that eventually the sun rose in the east and a new day began, but he didn't have time to appreciate the morning sun. The dwarves never stopped for a longer time, only halting sporadically to allow everyone to catch their breath.

All the time Fíli kept his eyes on his brother, hearing the echo of Óin's words in his mind, wondering worriedly how long Kíli – and Thorin, of course – would be able to keep their pace. But whenever Fíli put a hand onto his brother's shoulder the younger one would just flash him a smile and state that he was perfectly fine.

_If I hear him say that one more time, I'll need to punch someone._

But the next time they rested Kíli didn't do him that favour, instead passing the time in silence with his eyes closed, apparently thinking that Fíli couldn't hear him wincing in between laboured breaths.

If Fíli had disliked his brother's dismissive remarks, he certainly liked his quietness even less.

Again the frightening howl of a beast could be heard, and the dwarves quickly got to their feet after what couldn't have been more than five minutes. They stormed through the forest, all the time hearing the animal somewhere behind them, and Fíli ran faster than he ever had before, ignoring the twigs that grazed his face and the thorns that sometimes took hold of his hair when he got too close to one of the many large bushes.

At one point Kíli stumbled as he ran in front of him, crying out when he fell to his knees, and Fíli's heart stopped for a second before he reached the younger one and hoisted him up by grabbing his good arm.

"Come on, Kee, just a tad bit more. It's not far."

In fact he had no idea how far away the house actually was, but Kíli seemed to believe him. Fíli could see him gritting his teeth before he went on, and Fíli stayed closely behind. Just when he contemplated whether or not he might be able to carry his stubborn little brother, the woods cleared, and suddenly the company found themselves facing a wide open plain. In the distance Fili could make out a stone wall, and it was that place that Gandalf pointed at.

"There!" he yelled, and in the same moment the beast in the woods howled again, and it sounded alarmingly close.

Fili sprinted across the field, grabbing Kíli's sleeve as he passed the younger one, and his brother stumbled after him as fast as his feet let him. Dwarves were natural sprinters, and Fíli and Kíli prided themselves in being the fastest of the company, but now Fíli felt his lungs burning in his chest and he knew that, after everything that had happened, his body was screaming for rest.

_Almost there. _

Bombur suddenly passed by with incredible high speed, fear probably giving him wings as he made for the wooden door in the distance. Fíli risked a glance over his shoulder, and his eyes widened in sheer terror as he saw the beast for the first time. A bear was hunting after them, a monstrous creature bigger than any Fíli had ever seen, and he thought for a brief moment that even Azog's wargs must look tiny compared to that huge beast.

He almost crashed into the door as he reached it, feeling Kíli bump painfully against his back, and around him dwarves were shouting and yelling at each other as they nearly toppled over each other in their attempt to open the door that stood between them and safety.

Thorin and Gandalf were the last to reach the door, and Thorin pushed Ori and Nori out of the way, lifted up the heavy iron bar that locked the door as if it was a feather, and then the door was open and the dwarves hurried through. And not a moment too soon, for now the bear was upon them, jumping against the door with bared teeth, while the dwarves were pushing from the other side. Fíli put all his weight against the wooden door, his own face only inches away from the bear's snout that the beast tried to get between the door and the frame. He could feel its hot breath on his skin, he smelled its rotten breath, and above all, the howling and growling of the bear drowned out all other noises and made the hairs on Fíli's back stand up.

"Come on, push!" cried Thorin, slamming his body against the door, and beside him Fíli could see Kíli do the same, his face twisting as he grunted in pain.

Finally, with combined effort, the dwarves managed to close the door shut, and Fíli stayed with his head pressed against the door for a moment longer, listening to the sound of the bear as it sniffed and growled, scraping the wood with its claws as if to remind them that it was still there, and still hungry. Fíli took deep breaths and wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying slow his pulse.

"What was that?"

Ori's nervous voice broke the silence as he repeated his question of earlier. All heads turned in Gandalf's direction, and the wizard looked sternly at the young scribe of the company.

"That was our host."

Ori's jaw dropped, and Bilbo stared at Gandalf incredulously, probably not for the first time doubting the wizard's sanity. Dwalin stood with a grim expression on his face, his one hand still gripping his axe tightly, as if he secretly believed that they should rather have killed the beast, host or not. Thorin narrowed his eyes, obviously waiting for a further explanation.

"His name is Beorn," said Gandalf, "and he's a skinchanger."

Several dwarves gasped, and Fíli turned around to Kíli.

"You hear that, Kee? Told you they're real!"

But in the very moment he faced his brother, the raven-haired dwarf leant back against the door and let himself slide down to the ground, and all thoughts of legends and fairytales, of childhood stories and fantastic creatures transformed into the one thought that really mattered.

_Kíli._

Fíli dropped to his knees next to Kíli, and immediately his brother gave him his usual, defiant stare that he had perfected during the last hours.

"I'm –"

"No, you're not!" snapped Fíli, finally losing his patience with his little brother. "You are _not_ fine, Kíli, and we all know that, so for Mahal's sake, if I hear you say that you're alright just one more time, I swear by Durin's beard I'll feed you to Smaug, so he may choke on your stubbornness!"

He exhaled audibly, only then realising the silence around them. He noticed the other dwarves staring at him, and he winced inwardly. The only one not looking at him was Kíli, hiding his eyes behind his long hair as he sat with his head bowed.

Suddenly a shadow fell onto Kíli, and Fíli turned around to find his uncle gazing intently at his youngest nephew, then at Fíli.

"What's all this about?"

"Kíli's hurt, and running from a bloody bear can't have done him any good, but he insists that he's fine when we can all see that he needs to rest!" exclaimed Fíli exasperatedly, anger and worry making his stomach clench.

"I'm not weak."

The words had been barely intelligible, and Fíli needed a few seconds to process that it had been Kíli speaking quietly.

"Weak?" he echoed, staring at his brother aghast. "It's not weak to need rest after almost getting killed by an orc!"

The second he said it, Fíli regretted his words, even more so as he saw Kíli paling visibly. The thin lines on his cheek and neck stood out clearly against his skin, and the young dwarf avoided his apologetic glance.

"Oh Kíli," said Thorin with a sigh, and he knelt down next to his nephew, putting a hand onto his shoulder. Reluctantly Kíli looked up, and he looked so much like a small child that Fíli's heart ached. It was with a surprisingly soft voice that Thorin spoke quietly to Kíli.

"You are everything but weak. But your body needs rest in order to heal. It would be foolish to ignore it."

"Look who's talking," muttered Balin somewhere behind them, and the ghost of a smile tugged at Kíli's lips as Thorin rolled his eyes, smirking at his nephews.

"You have to rest, because I need both of you in good shape once our journey continues," added their uncle. "Do you understand me?"

It took a while that seemed endless to Fíli, but eventually Kíli nodded slowly and he pushed himself up and got to his feet. He groaned quietly, and it took all of Fíli's willpower to not offer a supporting hand when all his instincts screamed at him to help. But he knew that Kíli would never forgive him if he intervened right now, so he merely exchanged a quick glance with Thorin, who smiled back at him.

Gandalf led them into the house, and Fíli barely had time to appreciate the interior before he found himself collapsing in a corner, his eyes already half closed. He knew he ought to stay awake and listen to Gandalf telling them about their host called Beorn, or ask Thorin what his plans for the next day were, but he was fighting a losing battle against his own body. He heard rather than saw Kíli laying down next to him, and his hand brushed against his brother's as the younger one shifted around to get a comfortable sleeping position.

"Sleep well, _nadadith_," he whispered, and although he couldn't see anything through closed eyelids he knew that Kíli was smiling.

"Meet you again when sun rises, _nadad_," replied Kíli quietly, as he had done ever since he'd learned to talk.

It was only when Fíli had almost drifted into the blissful oblivion of sleep that his uncle's words echoed in his mind.

_I need both of you._

It was a strangely comforting thought, and when Fíli finally fell asleep, the smile was still etched on his face.

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**What do you think? I need to include some father-figure-Thorin from time to time, especially with knowing how dark he's supposed to become in the third movie... :(**


	7. Dreaming

Thanks a lot to my loyal reviewers, you're the best! A long chapter filled with Durin feels is your reward ;)

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**7. Dreaming**

Fíli was a light sleeper. It didn't mean that he didn't sleep well, but he usually slept dreamlessly and woke easily when something was amiss. It hadn't always been like that, as his mother had told him. For the first five years of his life, little Fíli had slept soundly during the night, and not even a dragon would have been able to wake him.

It had changed the day his baby brother had been born.

His mother had often marvelled at his ability to sense, even asleep, if his little brother was troubled. She'd often be woken by mumbled words coming from the nursery, or from soft crying, and she would go to look after her baby only to find her eldest already soothing the younger one. She'd stroke little Fíli's hair and send him back to bed, worried that he might not get enough sleep for himself.

It had never even occurred to Fíli that he could just as well stay in bed and wait for their mother to take care of Kíli. The moment he'd first seen his baby brother he'd known that it would be his task to look out for him, and look out for him he would until Mahal come and take them to his halls.

Until now, this hadn't changed.

And therefore Fíli slept lightly even in the safety that was the skinchanger's comfortable home. He was lying on his back, one hand resting loosely on his stomach, the other touching the hilt of his sword that was tucked into the scabbard to his left.

He had listened to Kíli's steady, rhythmical breathing before he, too, had fallen asleep eventually, his own breathing perfectly in tune with his brother's. It was sometime in the early of hours of night that Fíli was stirred from his peaceful sleep. Something was different, something wasn't right, and he could hear irregular, strained breathing from the person to his right even when he was still half asleep. Instinctively he reached out his hand, feeling cold skin underneath his palm, and he squeezed the arm softly as he slipped from the blissful oblivion of sleep into the reality of the waking world.

"Kee?" he mumbled as he opened his eyes, crouching over to his brother and putting his hand onto the younger one's shoulder. "Kíli, it's alright, I'm here."

He watched his little brother as he shifted restlessly where he laid, forehead creased and covered in sweat, and he pressed his own lips to a thin line, wondering whether or not he should wake him. Kíli muttered incoherent words, and although Fíli couldn't understand any of it they still tore at his heart. There was something about the way Kíli screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists that made Fíli's stomach clench.

_He looks so scared._

"It's alright, little brother," he repeated rather helplessly, almost contemplating to wake up one of the other dwarves when Kíli didn't seem to react. "It's just a nightmare, Kee."

In that moment Kíli started up, and his eyes were wide as he stared wildly into the dark at something behind Fíli's shoulder. He was panting heavily, strands of hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, and his shoulders were shaking under Fíli's hands as he held him firmly.

"Shh, Kee, look at me," he whispered, "wake up, _nadad_, look at me. It was just a bad dream, I swear, so wake up," he almost begged.

It took another couple of seconds until Kíli's glassy eyes became focused and found Fíli's.

"Fee?" he muttered, sagging limply against Fíli's grip, and the blonde pulled him close and put a hand onto the back of the young one's head. Kíli buried his face in the crook of his brother's neck, shoulders still shaking, and Fíli bit his lip when he felt something wet on his skin. As a dwarfling, Kíli had cried during his nightmares more than once, but he couldn't remember any time during the last thirty years that this has happened.

And now, for the first time since they had left Ered Luin, Fíli didn't know what to say.

Suddenly Kíli pulled away abruptly and got to his feet. Before Fíli could do anything, the black-haired dwarf reached the door and bolted out of the house. Fíli cursed inwardly, hurriedly checking whether the others had noticed anything. But the other dwarves seemed to be fast asleep, as was Bilbo. Gandalf was nowhere to be seen, but Fíli had long ago learned that the wizard went and returned as he liked and that it was none of his business anyway. With one last glace to where Thorin was sleeping, Fíli tiptoed out of the room, beginning to run the moment he closed the door behind him. It was pitch dark outside, but surprisingly warm, and Fíli narrowed his eyes as he searched for his brother.

"Kíli?" he called out quietly, but he was met with silence. "Kíli?" he tried again, and just when he wondered where he should look for the younger one first, he heard a noise that made him spin on his heels. A shadow below a tree made his heart stop for a second, and quickly he blessed the moonlight before he hurried over to the tree.

Kíli was sitting with his back against the large tree, head buried between his drawn up knees, and he didn't even look up as Fíli approached. Silently Fíli sat down next to him, legs stretched out before him, and took a deep breath.

"What was that all about?"

For a moment Fíli feared that his brother wouldn't answer.

"I needed some fresh air," replied Kíli finally, his voice muffled and quiet, and Fíli exhaled quietly. It was a start.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked tentatively, but he wasn't so sure about how he'd react if the answer was positive.

Luckily for him, the younger one shook his head.

"Good. Kee, I..." He hesitated, unsure about what to say. "You scared me, in there. Will you tell me what's on your mind, brother?"

Kíli made a sound between a growl and a sob, and Fíli's chest tightened at the noise.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, though. It was only a dream, after all. Just some bad dream."

Kíli mumbled something that Fíli couldn't understand at first, and for a moment he thought he'd imagined it and his brother hadn't spoken at all. But just when he pondered asking him, the younger one spoke quietly again.

"It wasn't just a dream."

His voice sounded hollow and still muffled, but the words rang in Fíli's ears nonetheless.

"Of course it was a dream," he said carefully. "A nightmare."

"No, I mean, yes, I was asleep, but..." He could sense Kíli shuddering next to him. "It was real. I was there again. And... and he sneered at me, and he spoke to me, he..."

Kíli gasped audibly, burying his head deeper between his knees, and Fíli stared blankly at the unruly hair of his brother.

"But Azog wasn't really there," said Fíli, biting his lip as he saw Kíli flinch at the mentioning of the name. "We're safe here."

Now Kili finally looked up, and his wide brown eyes met Fíli's as he gazed intently at him.

"Are we?" he asked, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down Fíli's spine. Just two words, but they mirrored the shadow of fear in his eyes.

"Of course, Kíli. And if something comes through that door –" he motioned vaguely at where he assumed the gate was – "I'll make sure you stay safe."

Kíli laughed, but it was a fake laugh that escaped his lips, and he shook his head slightly.

"You can't always protect me, Fee."

"Watch me," said Fíli without thinking. "I can –"

"No. You can't."

"Alright, Kee, look at me." He grabbed his brother by the shoulders, shaking him a little when the younger one tried to avoid his firm gaze. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I always have. You won't die, not on my watch."

"You don't get it, do you?" cried Kíli suddenly, and he sounded so angry that Fíli let go of his brother's shoulders, completely taken aback by the frustration in Kíli's voice. "By Mahal, Fee, do you really think I'm scared to die?"

The question lingered between them for seconds, during which Fíli tried to comprehend what his little brother had just said. Everyone was scared of death. Some more, some less, some joked about it and some never talked about it, but every dwarf was at least a tiny bit afraid of the end.

"I wasn't scared to die when Azog had me," said Kíli, his voice almost inaudible as he spoke, and Fíli held his breath to not let his own breathing drown own his brother's words. "I would gladly give my life if I could thus save my kin. As would you." It wasn't a question, but a statement, and a true one as well. "But when that filth raised its sword, I... I couldn't bear the thought of being –"

He didn't speak further, but Fíli suddenly had a very clear idea of what his brother was talking about. Images flooded his mind, of Kíli drawing his bow with ease, of Kíli wielding his sword with a cheeky grin on his face, of Kíli just being – Kíli. His reckless, foolish little brother.

"It was in that moment that I realised I would do everything – anything – to keep Azog from doing it," said Kíli hoarsely. "I wished, so _badly_, that he'd offer me a choice, and he didn't, and I'd never felt so weak in my whole life. So bloody _weak._" The last words were drenched in a sob, and Fíli felt like his chest must explode with emotion.

"Kee –"

"Don't say it, Fíli. Don't say I'm not weak, please. I would have done anything in that moment, you understand that? I would have given up our quest, Erebor, the gold, if only he had given me a choice. I would have begged him to give me a choice if I had found the words."

A wave of nausea hit Fíli as he remembered that moment when he'd been forced to choose between his brother and his uncle. He heard Kíli's choked voice as he begged Azog to show mercy, he saw the glinting blade in Gorbog's hand, the tear streaks on his brother's pale face, and in that moment he understood.

"You think you didn't deserve to be saved." He felt sick, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat. Kíli just stared blankly at him, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. "You blamed me for abandoning Thorin because you felt too weak to be worth saving."

He should have laughed, for it was such a ridiculous thought, but all he felt was emptiness as the realisation hit him.

"I didn't deserve it!" Kíli burst out, and even in the dimly lit light of the moon Fíli could see him clenching his fists, his whole body tense underneath Fíli's palms as he put his hands onto Kíli's forearms. "I would have forsaken my own kin, my blood, because I was too bloody weak! If the line of Durin is indeed not so easily broken, then how can I –"

Whatever else he wanted to say was drowned out by a heart-breaking sob, and Fíli could but stare at his little brother, at the despair on his pale, young face, and he felt anger boil up inside of him that he had never felt before.

How dare that filthy creature lay hands onto his baby brother? How dare that orc scum rip to shreds the innocence of youth once more, after everything he'd already done, after rendering Thorin's soul apart and tainting its hands with the blood of uncounted numbers of dwarves?

_He will pay for that. If it's the last thing I do, he'll pay for that._

"You are not weak, my brother," he said softly, his gaze locking with Kíli's where he found his own face mirrored in the shiny brown orbs, "you are everything but weak. You are brave, and loyal, and courageous, and you are as strong as any Durin."

"Not as strong as you," whispered Kíli, "You are never scared. Neither is Thorin."

"Oh Kíli," sighed Fíli, and he smiled weakly at his brother. "I wish that was true. I am scared more often than you think. And that's alright."

"Is it?"

"'Foolish is he who is never scared, for fear is only lost when there is nothing left to lose.' I overheard Gandalf saying that to Bilbo. Therefore it's not at all a shame to be afraid, I think, for I have everything to lose."

"And what's that?"

Fíli didn't answer immediately, but instead pulled his brother into a hug.

"You, you fool of a dwarfling."

He could feel Kíli's shoulders shaking as he chuckled quietly, and he took a deep breath.

"I know I cannot erase the memories that haunted you tonight. I cannot undo what Azog has done, and I cannot change your own belief. I cannot even promise that I'll be able to keep you safe. But I can give you my word that I will always – _always_ – try, even if it's the last thing I do. Because I know you'd do the same for me."

He exhaled audibly, and to his horror he felt his own eyes start to burn.

"Aye," said Kíli quietly, "I'd do that."

For a moment neither of them spoke, and Fíli was content just holding his little brother in his arms in that peaceful place. Eventually Kíli pulled away, though, and he looked intently at Fíli. His face was still pale, but now free from tears, and he smiled crookedly at the older one.

"I don't know about you, but I could really use a few more hours of sleep."

"No surprise there, sleepyhead," mocked Fíli with a grin, and he ducked only just in time. He got to his feet and pulled Kíli up. Together they went back into the house, and when they were finally lying down again, Fíli settled himself in his original position – one hand on his stomach, one on his sword – and closed his eyes. He smiled to himself when he felt a hand on his forearm.

"_Lomil ghelekh,_ _nadadith_."

A soft snore was the only response, and Fíli thought that he couldn't have asked for a better answer.

* * *

**A/N: _Lomil ghelekh_ = Good night.**


	8. Leaving

**8: Leaving**

Fíli awoke to the sound of murmured words. He refused to open his eyes for a moment longer, instead only listening to the voices of Thorin and Balin although he couldn't understand a word from where he was lying. He could feel a ray of sun tickling his nose, and he sneezed loudly.

He was definitely awake now.

He opened his eyes and sat up from his bedroll, stretching his tired limbs with a loud yawn. Beside him Kíli shifted in his sleep, his closed eyes almost covered by his unkempt hair, and Fíli smiled as he saw how peaceful his little brother looked. His smile grew even wider when the smell of fried eggs reached his nose.

Kíli must have sensed it, too, and Fíli couldn't suppress a chuckle when he saw the brunette's nostrils twitching in sleep.

"Breakfast, sleepyhead," he said and poked his brother gently in the ribs, which Kíli acknowledged with a groan.

"That's how you treat your injured little brother, now?" he grumbled, turning his head to face Fíli through sleepy eyes. "Wait till mum hears of that. And – wait, are these fried eggs?"

He was on his feet in a heartbeat, grinning broadly at the older one. Fíli looked at where a part of the company was still sleeping – Bombur was snoring as usual, and Ori was barely visible, so squashed was he between his older brothers – and then back at Kíli. He was met with a mischievous smile, and Fíli nodded.

_There'll be plenty of food left for the lot of them. Or not._

Side by side the two brothers followed the scent, and found themselves in what had to be the kitchen. Thorin and Balin stopped mid-conversation, and Dwalin looked up from his plate. Fíli's mouth twitched as he took in the form of the dwarf. The seasoned warrior, taller than any dwarf he knew, looked tiny compared to the large furniture, especially with his feet dangling in the air.

"See anything funny, lad?" growled Dwalin with narrowed eyes.

"Er, no, nothing," stammered Fíli, which earned him a deadly glare from the older dwarf before he focused on his breakfast again, while Kíli roared with laughter.

"I hope you're well rested, boys," said Thorin, and Fíli thought that his eyes lingered on his youngest nephew a little longer than normally.

"Well, I am," replied Kíli, exchanging a quick glimpse with Fíli. Of course Fíli wouldn't tell of what had happened in the night, although he was certain that somehow Thorin would notice if something was still troubling Kíli. He always did. But Kíli actually looked good that morning, his cheeks having a healthy colour instead of the pale shade they'd held the other day.

"Me too," added Fíli, then looked at his uncle questioningly. "Where is Gandalf?"

"How should I know!" exclaimed Thorin, throwing his hands up in mocked frustration. "Gone to Mahal knows where, that wizard."

"I'm sure he has a reason to be absent," stated Balin calmly, being his normal, sensible self. "Now, lads, help yourselves, there's plenty to eat."

"Did you –" Kíli stopped before finishing his sentence, staring at the heavily loaded table with doubt in his eyes.

"Of course not," said Dwalin, "do we look like kitchen maidens to you?"

Somehow the tattooed dwarf was not in the best of moods, and Fíli made a mental note to not get on the wrong side of him that day.

"It was already set like this when we woke up," explained Balin, "so at some point Beorn must have been here tonight, though I didn't hear anything."

Kíli merely shrugged before he sat down at the table and helped himself to some bread and eggs. Fíli grinned as he saw him eating like he hadn't had anything for months, thinking to himself that surely Bilbo wouldn't approve of the youngest Durin's table manners.

Within the next hour the rest of the company awoke, and they had a merry breakfast together that seemed to be never ending.

"Breakfast, second breakfast, and elevenses all in one, I could get used to that!" exclaimed Bilbo cheerily, rubbing his stomach, and Bombur looked at him with unhidden curiosity.

"Second breakfast?"

"Elevenses?" asked Nori, and Ori's mouth hung slightly open. "Tell us everything!"

And so Bilbo did, and the dwarves listened intently, and for a while Fíli felt like he didn't have a care in the world.

* * *

Eventually Bilbo's storytelling came to an end, and still neither wizard nor skinchanger were to be seen. Thorin fetched his old map and placed it onto the wooden table, and immediately all that could be seen of Thorin and Balin was their hair as their heads hung so low over the old parchment that their noses almost touched the paper. Fíli seized the opportunity to explore the garden at daylight, and Kíli followed him. His brother took his bow and arrows with him, and soon they found themselves at the same tree that had sheltered them during the night.

"Target practise!" yelled Kíli excitedly, and Fíli laughed.

"Don't you think you'll get enough target practise as we march on?"

"I want to be prepared," replied Kíli, and for a split second Fíli could feel the pit in his stomach again.

_Prepared for what? Azog? I won't let him anywhere near you.  
_

But he didn't say anything. He just watched the younger one instead as he aimed carefully at a knothole and hit it right in the middle.

"Well done!" called Fíli admiringly. "Sometimes I think there's some Elf blood inside of you."

Outraged, Kili launched at his brother with a battle cry, and the older one suddenly found himself pinned down with a very un-elflike, black-haired dwarf on top of him.

"Take – that – back!"

"Ouch, Kee! Alright, alright, I take it back!"

"Say I'm an amazingly skilled warrior."

Fíli snorted, and Kíli's deadly glare didn't exactly help him.

"Aye, you're an amazingly skilled warrior."

"Say I'm majestic!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

For a moment none of them said a word, then they burst into laughter simultaneously. Kíli rolled in the grass, laughing with tears in his eyes, and Fíli laughed with him until he felt like his ribs would burst.

"Fíli! Kíli! Get inside!" Thorin suddenly yelled from the house. "And bring Nori and Ori! Gandalf's here!"

But even if Gandalf was there, their host was not. The company spent another night in the comfortable house, and when Fíli woke up the next morning, he noticed immediately that something was different.

They weren't on their own anymore.

"So here you are still!" boomed a deep voice, and as Fíli grabbed his sword out of instinct before he even opened his eyes.

"No need for weapons in the house of Beorn, young dwarf," said the voice, now rather friendly, and Fíli opened his eyes and beheld the tallest man he had ever seen. He was huge, with long hair and wild eyes, but he had a friendly face as he now watched the dwarves and the hobbit waking up.

"Not eaten up by wargs and goblins yet, I see," Beorn chuckled. "Now then, get up and have something to eat, while we discuss how to proceed."

That morning breakfast was much quieter, and Fíli noticed that his uncle watched Beorn with barely hidden mistrust. Fíli himself hadn't yet made up his mind about the strange man. It was hard to believe that this kind host was the same as the wild and bloodthirsty bear that had hunted them not long ago.

"Gandalf told me you are on your way to the Lonely Mountain," Beorn said suddenly, and Fíli could see Thorin narrowing his eyes.

"What of it?"

"You want to reclaim your homeland and find a treasure," said Beorn, "and slay the dragon that guards it. Is that wise, I wonder?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"It has been a business of mine ever since you came into my home," replied Beorn sharply, and for a moment his eyes flashed with anger. "Why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

"What do you know of Azog?" asked Kíli, his brown eyes set on the skinchanger with curiosity.

"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved. Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging skinchangers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

Kíli wasn't the only one to pale a little at his words. Fíli had always known that orcs were cruel, but now he realized that they were capable of things beyond his imagination.

Beorn shook his head as if to get rid of the unpleasant thoughts.

"Now, the mountain. You need to reach it before Durin's Day, Gandalf told me."

"Aye, before Durin's Day," nodded Balin.

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood," added Gandalf, and Fíli saw Beorn's eyes darken when the wizard mentioned the forest.

"There is a darkness that lies on that forest, my friend. There is an alliance between the orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there unless in great need."

Bofur looked at the man with visible discomfort, and Ori was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"That is why we will take the Elven road. It is safe," said Gandalf calmly. But Beorn seemed doubtful.

"There are no safe paths in that forest. The elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin in Rivendell. They are less friendly, less witty, and more dangerous. And the plains between here and Mirkwood are full of orcs. You will never outrun them."

"That is why we need you help."

Beorn eyed the dwarves intently, and Fíli shifted a little nervously where he was sitting. The skinchanger's stare was intimidating, and he flinched when Beorn raised his voice again.

"I don't like dwarves. They're greedy and care only for themselves, blind as they are towards the lives they deem less than their own."

Silence followed these sentences, a ringing, uncomfortable silence, and Fíli watched his uncle, almost expecting him to jump at the man.

"But orcs I like even less. I will lend you some of my ponies. They will bring you safely to the borders of Mirkwood."

Fíli exhaled the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and relief flooded Kíli's face as Thorin smiled at their host.

"Thank you for your kindness, Beorn. It will not be forgotten."

"Whether or not that will prove true only time can tell, Thorin Oakenshield. I have a feeling that our paths will cross once more eventually."

Thorin didn't answer to that, and Beorn spoke no further, but instead led the dwarves to the paddock where the ponies were already waiting for them.

"Gather your belongings!" ordered Thorin. "We ride immediately!"

The dwarves cheered, only Bilbo looked unusually miserable.

"What's the matter, Master Baggins?" asked Bofur gently, poking Bilbo in the side.

"Horses," muttered Bilbo, "why does it always have to be horses?"

He said something else, but whatever it was, it was drowned out by the dwarves' laughter.

* * *

The set off one hour later, and Thorin made haste to get as much distance between them and the orc pack. The ponies were eager to run, apparently enjoying the fast gallop across the plains, and Fíli found himself smiling broadly as the ground flew by beneath his mare's hooves. Kíli was at his side, and Fíli kept throwing him worried glances, unsure about how well the younger one would be able to cope on horseback with his injured ribs. But Kíli just grinned and Fíli decided to believe him that he was alright.

_There's no other way anyway._

They reached the edge of the forest soon, and the dwarves peered at the large trees with mistrust. It didn't exactly help that Gandalf chose just this moment to announce his departure.

"You will come back, won't you?" asked Ori timidly, and Gandalf nodded.

"I will come back to you as soon as possible. Now let the ponies return to their master."

It was with a rather heavy heart that Fíli let his pony go. The mare whinnied as she cantered away, and Fíli thought that it sounded like a farewell. It was a strangely comforting thought, and he was glad that not even Kíli could read his mind.

Gandalf was on horseback again, and his last words were directed at Thorin.

"Follow the Elven path. Don't stray. Follow the path."

With that he was gone, and the dwarves watched him ride away for a moment, before Thorin called out to them.

"Follow me!" he cried, and Fíli noticed that he put one hand onto the hilt of his sword. "Follow the path! Come on!"

One by one they followed after their leader. The moment Fíli entered the forest he felt uneasy. There was something amiss with these woods, yet he couldn't quite put a finger on it. The trees were unnaturally huge, and no light found its way through the leaves. A weird silence was all around them, and the air was sticky.

"It's creepy, isn't it?" whispered Kíli who was coming after him. "I don't like it here."

"Aye, the sooner we get out of here, the better," Fíli sighed, grasping the hilt of his short dagger – just in case.

"Don't worry brother," he heard Kíli say with a surprisingly serious tone. "I'll be right behind you."

And in the middle of the old, mysterious forest, with no idea how long they'd be stuck in the woods, and with the danger of unwanted company lurking behind every tree, Fíli smiled.

It was just another day in the forest with his brother. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

_There's nothing left to lose_

_The fight never ends_

_I can't face the dark without you_

(Breaking Benjamin, "Without you")

* * *

**Yes, Fíli, what could go wrong? Oh, you naive dwarf...**

**Part of the dialogue with Beorn is from the movie, but the part where he wakes up the dwarves is from the book. It's also in the book where Beorn actually appears just after the second night. So I guess this chapter is kind of a mixed up version of movie and book, with some original dialogue and some dialogue that I made up.**

******Oh and the part about breakfast, second breakfast and elevenses was inspired by a cartoon that I found somewhere on the internet (probably Pinterest). In that cartoon Bilbo asks, "What about second breakfast?" (just like Pippin in LotR) and the dwarves are all like, "What? Ohhhh tell us everything!". ;)**

**Thank you, my lovely readers, for all your great reviews! It was such a pleasure writing this story, and I'm glad I made it a longer story after all. But all things come to an end, and as for this story, I felt like I needed to end it at this point.I actually have an idea about the incident with the spiders (seeing that it was a bit different in the book than it was in the movie), butI wouldn't know whee to end this story if I included that as well. So keep your eyes open, I might write a one-shot about the spider attack, but that won't be before the World Cup finale ;)**


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